


London Pride

by blue_striped_pyjamas



Category: Call the Midwife, Lucy Spraggan
Genre: ? - Freeform, Basically I combined 3 things I love, Crossover, Modern AU, Pride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-16 11:58:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10570848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_striped_pyjamas/pseuds/blue_striped_pyjamas
Summary: Delia has just moved to London due to unfortunate circumstances at home in Wales. She attends a Lucy Spraggan concert at London Pride and it all goes from there. Probably will be Delia-centric, but all of your favourite Poplar residents will appear at some point. I even have a plan to include Sister Evangelina eventually and I don't plan on killing anyone off ;)Chapters mainly based on Lucy Spraggan songs.





	1. I Don't Live There Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> I promise that this won't get too sad; yet.
> 
> Julie is the modern AU version of Sister Julienne, I couldn't quite fit the Order of Nonnatus into this story, but I knew it had to be her to offer lodgings to Deels, and I love all of the Sisters too much to not include them.

It was Delia Busby's first week as a resident of London; the first week of her new life in England. She was a born and bred Welshwoman, the first 25 years of her life had been spent in a small, traditional village, tucked away in a sleepy corner of Pembrokeshire. The Bubsy family were known to be very traditional people, Mr and Mrs Bubsy had only left the village once, for a family holiday to the Isle of Man, when Delia was a very young girl. To any outsider, the Bubsy family was incredibly close, with two loving parents who absolutely doted on their daughter. Insisting that Delia recieved the best education, they had even sent her to a Welsh speaking school, even though they were few and far between in Pembrokeshire - little Delia had to endure an hour long bus journey twice daily from the age of 4, until she was 16. 

It was when Delia had finished secondary school that the trouble started. She did not want to stay on at the school she was at anymore, there was a sixth form only twenty minutes from her village, and the long bus journey's were tiresome. Refusing to stay at the school they had chosen for her, Delia's parents often pointed out, was her first act of rebellion. Her lifestyle choices, in their eyes, had all followed on from there. It was whilst she was at college that Delia had discovered a world away from her Pembrokeshire village. As well as her academic studies, Delia learnt about the prospects the vast world offered her, she learnt that she could do whatever she wanted, and be whoever she wanted to be. She also learnt that she was in fact gay. 

Delia's sexuality was not a big deal to her, she was attracted to other women, and she saw no issue with that, but it was a big deal to her parents; such a big deal that she had decided it was wiser not to tell them. It was a secret Delia kept to herself throughout her time at university whilst she was studying to be a midwife, even briefly dating a boy she met in her student accommodation, just to keep her parents from becoming suspicious. When she graduated, and moved back home whilst she looked for a job, Delia had decided to risk it and come out to her parents. It was 2017 after all, not 1960. The conversation had gone about as well as one would imagine the same conversation to go in the 1960's, and a week later Delia had been forced to pack up all of her belongings and move away, knowing that she may not ever be able to visit Wales again, never mind Pembrokeshire. 

That was how she had come to be living in London. Delia knew that there were plenty of hospitals in London, and if she wanted to find a job as a midwife, this would be the best place. Not only that, she had been able to find lodgings, in the spare room of a dear woman in her 50's, called Julie, and a job in a local pub, just to tide her over until she found a midwifery position. It wasn't home, but it was safe, and comfortable. Delia was a modest woman, she didn't need much. The house she was lodging in was close to a number of London parks, so there was plenty of space for Delia to run, and breathe some good, clean air - a rare thing, she had discovered as soon as she had got to London. On her very first day in the city, she had thought that the air quality would improve once she had left the Underground station, but she was sorely disappointed.

As she sat in her room, eating dinner at the small table that Julie had been kind enough to provide her with, Delia disappeared into her memories of her old home. She missed her house, it was a quaint little cottage. She missed the character of it, she missed the way the drainpipe would leak, causing a quiet tapping on her windowsill whenever it rained. In London, the noises were all far louder, there was just a constant buzz of traffic, punctuated by the occasional siren, wailing into the distance. Delia often felt jealous of the sirens, they could wail and cry out, but she could not. She had no one here who would listen. She missed the creaking of the gate at the end of the garden path, she missed the pale off-white of her walls, she missed the familiarity of everything at home. 

There was a quiet knock at her door, bringing Delia back to the real world.  
"You've just had a parcel delivered dear, a man dropped it off, intimidating chap, really darkened my door with the shadow he cast!" Julie called out.  
Delia quickly realised that it would be her father. She had risked emailing him her new address, hoping that he might have the decency to drop off the box of books she hadn't been able to fit into her suitcase.  
"I won't be a moment Julie, I suspect it was my father" Delia responded softly.  
"Mind if I come in dear?" came the response. Delia gave no objection, so after a silent moment the door handle turned slowly, and Julie walked in. "Oh, you do look so forlorn my dear, you need to get out and about, explore the city!! Get the blood flowing in your young veins, I'm sure you'll settle in soon enough. Why don't you pay a visit to the Pride festival this weekend? I have a friend who has a ticket that she doesn't need for a concert on the parade day, Lucy someone or other, far too young and trendy for me to go!"  
Delia looked confused for a second, she had never mentioned her sexuality to Julie, and she had hoped that it wasn't that obvious. She tried hard to not look like a stereotypical lesbian, wearing floral dresses and her hair up, even when she would be more comfortable in jeans and a big hoodie. Still, it didn't sound like a bad idea. She thanked Julie, the older woman pulling Delia in for a hug. Maybe a trip to Pride was just what Delia needed, maybe she would find community there, people like her. It might make London feel more like home, not her old home, but a new home, with new people.


	2. Puppy Dog Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie convinces her friend Patsy to go to Pride with her. Patsy's POV.

It had taken Trixie Franklin 4 and a half weeks to convince her friend Patsy Mount to join her at London Pride, and the Lucy Spraggan concert being held as part of the parade. Trixie was obsessed with the X-Factor superstar, and she was an LGBTQ+ icon, so Patsy really should have been more enthusiastic. It wasn't that Patsy didn't like the idea of Pride, being surrounded by people like her, having fun and celebrating, as well as raising awareness of the issues still faced by the LGBTQ+ community. She just found that in reality, she didn't really fit in anywhere in the community. Patsy had grown up in Kensington, mingling with the most elite Londoners. Her family were originally from the far east, she had been born in Singapore, and had family in Hong Kong, but her earliest childhood memories only formed after they had moved to the English capital, where her father worked for business. Patsy often found that her accent was enough to set her apart, as hard as she tried, it gave her away as being a public school snob.

Patsy Mount was one of the most emotionally closed off people one could ever meet. She had to be, to survive. Her mother and younger sister had both died when she was just 9, they had been caught up in an armed robbery and died from the injuries they sustained trying to escape. Money could buy many things, it could buy silence from the press, the best medical treatments, higher security from that day on, the grandest funeral, the list went on - but it could not buy back life. Her impenetrable wall that she built, not allowing her to become friends with anyone for a long time, had become a feature of her personality that the children she was surrounded with at school as a boarder chose to pick on her for.   
"Oh don't go near her, she'll bite your head off. Patience Mount doesn't deserve her name" were taunts that she had very quickly learnt to deflect, but that didn't mean that they did not affect her.

The friendship between Patsy Mount and Trixie Franklin was unique. The two women had met as students, Patsy studying medicine, and Trixie studying film and screen studies, both at the University of Cambridge.There, both women had fit in as much as anyone else, Patsy coming from a family of privilege, but choosing to cut herself off from her father's money, using it only to pay for her tuition fees, and not taking any more money than any student would receive from the government, and Trixie coming from a troubled, but completely average London family. It had taken a long time for the women to build a bond, but after a year sharing a room in their second year, and getting far too drunk together, enough that both opened up to each other, they were inseparable.

Patsy's issue with allowing herself to be emotionally vulnerable meant that she had never been in a successful, healthy relationship. She guessed that after so long, she had stopped feeling, stopped needing other people. After a string of one-night stands, she had found herself in a relationship in her third year at university, with a woman considerably older than herself. It hadn't worked out. Worse than that, the woman had abused Patsy, using her for her money, becoming violent when Patsy stood her ground, then casting her out. For a long time, Patsy felt like a puppy, cast out into the street, broken and alone. It had only made the woman collapse into herself, closing off from the world further than she ever had before.

Once Trixie had got Patsy as far as the centre of Pride, she wasn't quite sure what to do with her. Trixie's first instinct, as always, was to head straight to the closest place where copious amounts of alcohol could be both purchased and consumed. Fortunately for her, at the back of the crowd waiting for Lucy Spraggan to make her way out onto the stage was a beer tent. Trixie dragged Patsy inside and bought them both a pint of beer. The concert had just started, so there was a rush from the tent, people fighting to get out into the crowd.

No sooner than Patsy had picked up her drink, it was knocked straight out of her hand. Turning around to see who it was, her eyes fell upon a gorgeous woman, a little younger than her, in a bright yellow floral dress.  
"Oh my goodness I am terribly sorry!" exclaimed the woman, looking as if she was going to bend down and try to rescue Patsy's drink from the floor, before realising what a ridiculous idea that was, blushing hard.  
"It's okay, it's okay, I'll buy myself another one" Patsy replied, trying not to sound flustered. She had just noticed that the woman stood in front of her had the most captivating eyes, like deep oceans, just drawing her in... "Can I... um, would you like a drink?" Patsy shook her head subtly, trying to shake herself out of the trance the young woman had drawn her in to.   
"I'm alright thanks, but seeing as you asked, you could do me a favour and accompany me outside? I would quite like to enjoy the concert, Lucy Spraggan is amazing, but unlike you, I am lacking in the height department!"

The woman had cheek, but Patsy liked it. She also had a soft Welsh accent, and Patsy really liked that, it sounded delicious. Patsy found herself drawn to the woman stood in front of her. Looking for Trixie, she realised that her companion had moved away to talk to a group of attractive women nearby. Not having anything to stop her, Patsy took the arm the shorter woman offered her, and forgetting completely about buying another drink, they joined the crowd at the back of the concert. Patsy found herself being dragged towards the stage, clinging on for dear life as they wrestled through the crowd. When they finally stopped, Patsy was surprised to be almost at the front. She felt way out of her depth here, everyone around her was singing along, and seemed to know every word, not least the younger woman accompanying her. 

Bending down slightly, so that she knew her new-found companion would hear her, Patsy whispered in her ear.   
"I don't know a single word!"  
"Oh dear, well that gives us a wonderful opportunity! I shall have to meet you again, and teach you!" The woman stopped suddenly. "I have just realised that I haven't introduced myself. Not only that, I have stolen you from your friend, potentially your girlfriend, and dragged you to the busiest area of a concert to see someone you probably have no interest in at all. I'm Delia, Delia Busby (she blushed, she had no idea why she needed to include her surname), and as much as I would like to know your name, I would not blame you if you took this as an opportunity to run off." Bewildered, Patsy stood for a moment, before sticking out her hand, as if to great the other woman, Delia.  
"Patsy. Patsy Mount."  
Both women promptly burst out with laughter, and took the entirety of the next song to compose themselves. Delia then began singing again, trying to get Patsy to join in for the chorus. Patsy resigned herself to simply soaking up the atmosphere, realising that the woman she had just met had made her laugh more in 5 minutes than anyone had in almost 10 years.

When the concert ended, Patsy made sure to exchange phone numbers with Delia. Delia also insisted that they take a selfie together, and Patsy put up not fight, it would be nice to have a souvenir of the day. Once she had lost sight of Delia, who had had to sprint off to catch the underground, Patsy went in search of Trixie. After a thorough search of the beer tent, she found her friend, completely smashed, and attached to a very sober looking brunette.   
"Patsyyyyy" slurred Trixie. "You look happyyy. Happy Patsy. Like an excited puppy dog, with big, loving eyesss". Patsy knew that her friend had hit the nail on the head, but did not respond, pretending to let the comment fly over her head. Trixie gestured to the woman she was with.  
"Patsy, meet Kate. Kate, Patsy". Trixie looked like she was going to throw up as Patsy peeled her away from the woman she was with.  
"I've just rung for a taxi." Kate whispered. "Good luck".  
Patsy started to thank the kind woman, and apologise for her friend, but she had no chance to. Trixie threw up onto the kerb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little in love with this happy fic.


	3. Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Trixie's night. Based around the scene where Sister Mary Cynthia found Trixie at the telephone, but with Patsy instead - Cynthia will appear later on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No prizes for guessing where the name Kate came from, I needed another character who has no reason to appear later. I've had a rough few days and I can't type for very long without my hands aching to this is a bit on the short side.

It took Trixie Franklin 45 minutes to drag herself out of bed and into the kitchen, shared with her housemate Patsy, the morning after Pride, her head throbbing. She clattered into the chairs around the kitchen table, trying to find a glass of water and painkillers. Patsy was already prepared for this, guiding her friendly gently back to her bed, handing her a glass of water and two small white pills. It was a well-rehearsed ritual between the two of them, and the last few months had given them more practice than was really necessary.

Patsy knew that Trixie's drinking was becoming increasingly out of control, but her friend didn't seem to ready to accept it yet, as much as she needed to. Last night had been one of the worst nights in a long time, Trixie always seemed to be at her worst when she had drunk too much beer. She'd spent the night with her head in the toilet, with Patsy holding her blonde bob away from her face. Trixie had thrown up so violently, and for so long, that her still alcohol steeped brain had convinced her that she was dying. A few years ago, Patsy might have laughed at her for saying that, but she was a medical professional, and she knew the damage her friend was doing to herself, even if she was too scared to tell her.

Trixie Franklin was known to everyone she encountered as one of the most friendly, loving people anyone could ever meet. Being drunk usually made her friendlier, and overwhelmingly so, but past a point, when she had gone past the point of giddiness, she became increasingly irritable. She didn't want to ask Patsy if she'd done anything outrageous the night before, but the bruise on her friends forearm suggested that she had.  
"How much did of an idiot did I make of myself last night then?" she enquired, barely whispering, mainly because of the throbbing in her head, but also secretly hoping that Patsy wouldn't want to talk about it too long, the few memories she had of the night had the potential to be painfully awkward.  
Patsy hadn't heard the question, but she did see Trixie's eyes dip down to the bruise on her forearm.  
"I had to drag you from the taxi, kicking and screaming that I was stealing you away from the love of your life" Patsy let out a chuckle, she knew that Trixie would be mortified, but she didn't mind that much. She bruised easily anyway, and her pale complexion made it more obvious than it would have been if she was even slightly tanned. "I was wondering if you could enlighten me as to which woman on your Facebook is the one who received the gift of your heart last night?"

Trixie groaned, pulling the waste paper bin from the side of her bed towards her, just in case.  
"I didn't? Did I?".  
"I can assure you that you did Trix, 170 photos on Facebook, and I've counted 5 different women so far. Not including the one I found you with, Kate I think her name was. It appears she was the sober guardian angle of the night, judging from how she dealt with you, and that she appears in multiple photos trying to keep you all upright."

Trixie and Patsy spent the next hour going through Trixie's Facebook, trying to track down the women who appeared in the photos, struggling to identify anyone behind the many layers of rainbow facepaint. It was when they reached the 57th photo that Trixie's heart sank. Her. The Woman. Trixie's heart fell to the soles of her feet when she realised that she couldn't remember her name, or anything about her. No, there was something that she remembered, to woman's well spoken but distinctive Liverpudlian accent. Trixie breathed a sigh of relief, she might never find her woman again, but at least they had talked before Trixie had decided that she loved her. The same woman appeared in most of the rest of the photos, including the last few, where she could just about be made out to be the woman collapsed in a corner, with someone trying to administer first aid, whilst Kate propped Trixie up.

Trixie realised that whoever this woman was, she couldn't have been quite as experienced with drink as she was. She'd drank more and more, going along with whatever Trixie was drinking, and Trixie had drank a lot (she was already dreading discovering her bank balance). It was Patsy who had got excited about seeing the last few pictures, although she had tried to hide it. The other woman in the picture, the one dealing with Trixie's drunk associate, was Delia. Her Delia! Patsy decided not to mention it, but made a note of it, knowing that if Trixie really did want to track down whoever it was that she was with last night, Delia might be able to help them out. Delia seemed to do an awful lot of helping out.

Patsy decided that the best course of action now would be to leave Trixie to continue sleeping off her hangover, coming in every hour or so to provide her with more water and check that she was still okay (the trip to Pride had fortunately fallen so that neither woman would be working the next day). Patsy did worry about her dearest friend a lot, every time she opened the door in the next few hours, she was afraid of how she would find her friend. Worst case scenario, she would be blue in the face, having asphyxiated on her own vomit. They were both lucky that she had never come to significant harm, although the same could not be said for her liver. 

It was the early evening, when Patsy knocked on Trixie's door to announce that she would be making dinner, and that their next door neighbour would be paying a visit the next day, that Patsy found Trixie sat in a crumpled heap, sobbing uncontrollably. Patsy knelt beside her friend, pulling her towards her, stroking her back gently, encouraging her to breath in time with her, calming her down.   
"This is too much Patsy". Patsy immediately knew what her friend meant, and she was glad she had finally realised that drinking like this wasn't healthy.  
"I can get someone to help you Trixie, there are people who can help you. You can stop all of this." Patsy hugged her friend tighter as she spoke. "You aren't alone Trixie, I'm here."

Trixie let out another sob before she tried to speak again. She hadn't planned on this conversation happening, but she knew that she had to talk to someone, and she knew that Patsy would know what she needed to do. Sat on the floor with her best friend, she felt safe, but she knew that this was as hard for Patsy to deal with as it was for herself.   
"I don't know how to stop. I'm scared. Without alcohol, I'm not me, I have to put up a front, it takes at least 3 drinks for me to be able to socialise."

Patsy wanted to argue with Trixie, and tell her that she was friendly, and people loved her even when she was sober, but she knew what her friend meant. They had each other, but to almost everyone else, they had to spend every waking moment keeping up a mask of pleasant friendliness, even when they were both crumbling inside. Patsy coped by absorbing herself in her work, or cleaning their house. Trixie coped by drinking until she was concurrently numb to her emotions, and free to express them. She knew that Trixie needed someone (other than herself, they had been friends for too many years now) to prove to her that they appreciated her, even when she was sober. 

Later that night, when Patsy was finally alone, she planned out what she needed to do the next morning. Firstly, she needed to get hold of the details for the local Alcoholics Anonymous group, and pass them on to Trixie, discreetly including the phone number of a counsellor that Patsy knew would be a good person for her friend to talk to. Secondly, she needed to text Delia. Patsy had wanted to text her all day, but had been preoccupied by her worry for Trixie. Now she had two reasons to text her, she wanted to meet her again, and she needed to pick her brains for any way that they might be able to track down the woman Trixie met last night. If they could find her, maybe she would be able to convince Trixie that she could socialise without alcohol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it :) I really appreciate any comments :)

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I have too many fics on the go at once so don't expect long chapters, but I can write 1000-2500 words in one night so I'm sure I will keep up with this and One of Them, One of Us just fine.


End file.
